


Smoke and Orange and Salt

by JellyGuitar



Category: Dracula - Bram Stoker
Genre: Character Death, Character Study, F/F, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Canon, Travel, we're feeling soft in this one y'all, when you're gay for your bff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26452159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyGuitar/pseuds/JellyGuitar
Summary: Dearest Lucy,I feel ungrounded without you. Is it foolish to think that if I write to you, these letters will find their way to your hand?Yours,Mina
Relationships: Mina Harker & Arthur Holmwood, Mina Harker/Lucy Westenra
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having Feelings for a little while now and what better way to escape solitude than to project onto characters from the romantic era? 
> 
> I read Dracula a few weeks ago and have had bits and pieces of this written for ages. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

London, England 189X

Lucy, 

I went back to the cliff you wandered to all those nights ago, just before the Count began to truly prey on you. It was rather pretty today. The waves crashing against the rocks, the grass green and swaying in the wind. 

I thought of the suddenness with which you left. 

I miss you unbearably, my darling. Jonathan was jovial today. I suppose we all must cope in our own ways, but I cannot help to hate him for the seeming ease with which he smiled today.  
Arthur has not been as lucky. I have not spoken with him in many days, but last Thursday his eyes were as lifeless as yours are now. 

He and I did not always get along. I thought him too fortunate, too weak-willed when you suffered. He thought me to be too smart, too quick to understand what my husband could not. 

After watching you suffer, we knew each other. 

I confess I find greater comfort in talking to Arthur than to my own betrothed. We both have suffered so greatly. This is not to say that my Johnathan has escaped unharmed—he can barely function when forced to stay inside for hours on end, and he has lost something of himself.

Oh Lucy, how it embarasses me to write this! 

He has been unable to… touch me for some time. Ages ago, I asked him why we haven’t consummated yet, and he only responded that it felt wrong to do something for our own pleasure when your retribution still had to be found. But it has been some weeks since I have been cured, and still I remain cold and unheld at night. Finally he told me about three women who tempted him in that horrible Count’s castle. 

I wonder if they would have been more able to satisfy him than I ever could.

Jonathan holds no fault in my fears. He has taken no action to create these worries. I am only worried, now, that he finds me undesirable. Kindness and understanding are one thing, but if I cannot tempt him, are we married in any more than name? My power in swaying him and the other men tasked with saving us lies in my gentleness. A soft touch is not enough to move John any more. 

He thinks often of them, I think. He looks happy. Scared, perhaps. But he smiles when he sits in the armchair that smells of smoke and allows himself to drift. 

I have not been able to grin in some time. John suggests seeing a doctor, but I know the cause of my affliction very well. You made me very happy during your life, my darling. 

With love, 

Mina


	2. Orange

South Eastern Railway, London to Dover, 189X

Lucy,

At Johnathan’s indifference, I am journeying to Dover. We are currently crossing the Thames. The water shines, and I can only see the river our husbands sailed down. Listening to the water sickens me. Closing my eyes is impossible, as all I can see is the red eyes of the creature who cursed me. Soon we will be past the water, and I will only hear the rumbling of train wheels. 

Have I become like the Count, unable to cross rivers unless the celestials deem it acceptable? Must I wait for the powers that control my mind to ebb before passing over?

Occasionally I forget that he is no longer inside me. I wake up expecting to hear sounds from ears that are not my own, and realize that I am terribly alone in my own body. For minutes, little can bring me back to my present. Smells help. The one connection the Count never made with me was through the nose—I particularly like the sharp tang of oranges and anise. They are strong, unfamiliar, and pleasant enough to wipe the memory of floating down a river in a wooden box. Much like the wreath of garlic you once wore, a necklace with a capsule of orange peel and star anise adorns my neck. It brings me comfort. I am in need of some these days. 

There were oranges at the dining car, and they are to be my food for the day. I brought a knife with me to restock my necklace. Johnathan doesn’t know.

When I boarded the train, I sent a letter to Arthur telling him of my plan, inviting him to follow me on the next train out. I sent nothing to Johnathan. He knows my plan, my route, my timeline, so if he wishes to join or send a note, he will know how. 

I don’t mean to be this harsh towards him. Just as I process loss, he processes still having a wife despite some certainty that she would be gone by now. Even as he fought, teeth gritted and jaw set, fear gripped him. He has always been easy to read. He felt no pleasure in that fear, but he had it then and now he does not. Whatever adrenalin pumped through him has been lost. 

Whatever thrill he had, is gone. 

And I cannot give it back to him. 

Is it not what he most desires? A reason to fight, an object to protect. What would his worth be without his ability to guard another? By living, I have rid him of justification for anger against the world. By living, I have saved him from deeper pain and hurt, but his buoyant emptiness has changed us both. 

Yours,  
Mina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated!


	3. Anise

Dover, England 189X

Morning

Lucy, 

I have arrived in Dover. I am staying at a small inn that smells of salt and old paper, and through my window a lighthouse flashes its message to oncoming ships. A letter was waiting for me here, from Arthur. He accepted my offer and will be joining me tomorrow to walk the cliffs. I will not go out today, for I want to see them with someone. 

He writes with an expected brusqueness, and I cannot help but begrudge him the manner with which he writes of you. Your dear Arthur acts as though he alone holds claim to your gentle touch. 

He forgets that I have known you all your life. There was once a time when he did not monopolize your shy glances and your lips had no occasion to turn upwards at mention of his name. 

I suppose that time, and the ages before it, are over. 

No one knows me here. I am free to walk the streets without obligation to smile, and free to return to my room with no one waiting for me. Arthur may be arriving tomorrow, but the hours spent alone have caught up to me. You could think I’m lonely. 

Not quite. Lonesome, maybe. 

You were my first real companion. I like to think that, had you lived, we would have spent the rest of our lives in each other’s orbit. It shames me to admit that only you have inspired this in me. 

Evening

A few hours ago, I went out and walked north, away from the ocean and away from the cliffs. I found a church, St. James, holding sermon, and sat down to listen in. 

They spoke of love, my darling. 

It is greatly refreshing to hear not of the love between man and woman, but the inherent love between all people. Jonathan would not have appreciated the Priest’s words as much as I did. He is far more attracted to the anger of God, to the fear of retribution. Something to fight for. 

I did not know how his fire muted me. Even the air here fuels my soul and expands my heart. 

After the sermon, I was approached by the Bishop. He handed me a pamphlet for the church, which noted the service times and had a peculiar verse on it: 1 John 4:18. “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”

How I wish you were here with me. 

With love, 

Mina


	4. Salt

Dover, England 189X

Dearest Lucy, 

Arthur arrived this morning. He looks no better than when I saw him last, but some of his tightness left with his first breath of ocean air. Neither of us have any responsibilities to attend to, so we went towards the cliffs once he put his bags in his room.

No one knows us here, so we are free to walk hand in hand without questioning glances. 

Your hand was what we both wished for. 

We arrived at the cliffs and looked out on the water. Waves crashed against the shore, grass swayed with the wind. I closed my eyes and plugged my ears with wax and breathed in the scent of the ocean.

The Count was not who came to me, but you, my darling. I felt your ghost by my side as Arthur took my hand and held tightly. 

I can say with certainty that he felt you with us too. 

We stood for what felt like hours, him listening and me breathing deeply. Near the middle of the day, we sat down, pressed against each other. I pretended that it was your hips flush against mine. Arthur did the same. 

The sun rose in the sky and fell back down, tinting the water orange and red. 

Half my soul belongs to you. It always will. But with Arthur by my side, his essence similarly split, I know that we can be whole together. Maybe one day when our pain has dulled and red eyes are more a myth than a memory, he and I will not need the anchor of another to feel connected to Earth. For now, he is what I need. 

I will not forget you, Lucy, now that think pinkness of life has left your cheeks. 

I will love you with all the moods and tenses of the verb forever. 

I will miss you, my love. 

Yours forever, 

Mina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
